Sticks and Stones
by jordangio
Summary: What if Santana had never broken up the fight between Blaine and Karofsky?


Like previously mentioned, I LOVE doing prompt fills, and here's another one, hope you enjoy! I am a HUGE Klaine shipper, so expect a lot of it.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Glee or any part of it. The characters do not belong to me, they belong to the writers.

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><p>"Aww, you miss them," Blaine hummed softly, grinning at Kurt as Artie and Brittany disappeared. Before Kurt could say anything else, an all-too-familiar voice interrupted Kurt's peaceful (dare he say it?) date.<p>

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

They turned around to find Karofsky standing there, big as ever. Memories flooded Kurt's mind, and not good ones. Bruises suddenly sparked with pain, bruises that still hadn't gone away. The color drained from his face and his breathing escalated. Blaine sensed the change in him, but said nothing about it in front of Karofsky.

"We're here for the benefit," Kurt said weakly, mustering up the immense courage to allow words to come out of his mouth, "Don't tell me you're going."

"I wouldn't be caught dead." Karofsky sneered, "I was pumping iron in the gym and one of the guys told me you two were here spreading your fairy dust all over the place."

"Would you just give it up?" Blaine said, narrowing his eyes at Karofsky, "You can live whatever lie you want, but don't pretend that the three of us don't know what's really going on here."

"You don't know squat, buckboy." Karofsky spat.

Blaine shoved Karofsky back, raising his arms in a challenge.

"I don't know squat?" he said, looking smug, "Try me. You're nothing but a jerk who takes pride in bringing others down. And you need to be stopped."

"You wanna go?" Karofsky growled, shoving him back twice as hard. Blaine staggered, and somehow managed to stay on his feet, though it wasn't withough extreme struggle.

"Blaine, leave him alone. It's not worth it." Kurt said softly, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder gently, pulling him back.

He was worried. Blaine wouldn't be able to handle Karofsky. But Blaine looked so…so _confident_ that he could defeat him, when the reality was this: Blaine was 5'6." Karofsky was 6'2." That put Blaine at a severe height disadvantage. Plus, Karofsky had probably a good thirty or so pounds on Blaine, if not more than that. Blaine would never win this fight, not in a million years. That dapper little shove may have worked on some of the pacifist Dalton boys whenever some argument arose (though it never really turned physical at Dalton), but it wasn't going to work on a football player with a lust for blood, specifically Kurt's.

"No," Blaine said, jerking his shoulder away and giving Karofsky a mean look (which couldn't have been the slightest bit intimidating to Karofsky), "This guy needs to be taught a lesson."

"What are you gonna teach me how to be a fag?" Karofsky spat.

That's when it went downhill.

Blaine shoved Karofsky again, but this time, Karofsky shoved back, twice as hard. Blaine staggered back, and Karofsky pushed him into a row of lockers. Luckily, Blaine's head wasn't smashed against them, but his back must have been screaming in pain.

"Karofsky, stop!" Kurt yelled, though his feet wouldn't let him move.

Punch after hit after elbow after shove, and Blaine couldn't do anything about it. He kicked and yelled and struggled, but it was no use. Karofsky was a lot stronger than him. Kurt ran up and tried to break it up, only to get shoved into the lockers as Karofsky and Blaine dueled it out in the middle of the hallway. Kurt sunk to the ground, crying not only because of the pain he thought he'd been permanently rid of, but because Blaine was so stupid.

Right after he started crying, he heard a voice.

"HEY," it yelled, in all its familiarity, "BREAK IT UP."

Coach Beiste was storming down the hallway, fuming. Karofsky immediately let go of Blaine. He'd been in mid-shove when they'd been interrupted, and Blaine rebounded against the lockers, crumpling to the ground in front of them. He was about a foot away from Kurt, right next to him, and it tore Kurt's heart apart to see Blaine in that state.

"Coach Beiste, it's not what it looks like." He whimpered, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Like hell it is," Coach Beiste growled, "Follow me, Karofsky. I'm calling up Figgins right now."

Karofsky reluctantly followed, turning back only to give Blaine a glare as if to say _I'll finish this later_, and that scared Kurt more than anything that had gone down so far.

Blaine groaned, getting back Kurt's attention. He looked to his boyfriend, assessing the damage.

Karofsky hadn't gone too into it, so there was nothing broken or cracked. At least, he hadn't had time to go into it. However, he'd delivered a few good punches, so Blaine's stomach was probably sore and a black eye or two were going to start to form in the next few minutes. The worst damage had been in the shoving. Blaine had been shoved pretty roughly into the lockers multiple times, so his back would hold the most pain. It would bruise up severely, Kurt knew from experience. He still had some bruises that hadn't faded away.

"Oh, Blaine," Kurt whispered, shaking his head as his boyfriend sat up, slowly leaning against the lockers, wincing. Kurt kneeled over him, brushing his hair back off of his forehead slightly, and then drawing his hand back.

"You're a fucking idiot." He said, shaking his head, "What the hell made you think that you could take on Karofsky? What? Did you think that I see you as my knight in shining armor, there to save me whenever injustice arises? Well, Prince Blaine, get it into your head that you can't fight my battles for me, because I can't fight my battles for me. The only thing I can do is fight with my words, and that won't stop Karofsky from beating me down every day. But the worst thing I could do is assume that I could take him on and get hurt in the process. Blaine, you can't fight him. And seeing you get beat up like that? That hurt the most. That made me the most angry and heartbroken. Do you think I want to see you come into Dalton on Monday and have to explain that Kurt's big old gay bully beat you up? Of course I don't. But Blaine, what in the world made you think that-?"

His rambling was cut off when Blaine unexpectedly grabbed his face and pulled him down for a kiss. Kurt sat in his lap, legs on either side of his, and kissed back softly, tenderly, not wanting to hurt Blaine. However, it was a bit hard not to be a bit tense because their groins were just about rubbing against each other. Blaine seemed not to notice, to Kurt's annoyance.

"I love you," Blaine whispered after slowly pulling away, "And that's why I tried to fight him. It's not because I don't think you can. But…but, the things you've told me he did to you…all of that kept buzzing through my mind when I stood in front of him. And I wanted to beat him up for it. But I couldn't."

He looked extremely guilty, and Kurt felt guilty. _Blaine_, he thought, _you don't know the half of it_.

"It's okay," Kurt said after pressing a light, feathery kiss on the black eye that was starting to slowly form on one of Blaine's eyes, "I forgive you. Just don't go picking more fights with Karofsky, okay? I don't want to have to cart you to the hospital."

The two laughed, and Kurt helped Blaine up.

"Come on," he said, supporting his boyfriend as they walked down the hall, "Let's go listen to the concert. I want to introduce you to everyone."

"But I'm all beat up," Blaine said, looking embarrassed, "And I'm starting to bruise up."

"They won't mind," Kurt said, giving him a halfhearted smile, "They accept everyone."

"Even the stupid boyfriends." He added. They both laughed, the harmonious sound echoing through the empty hallways of McKinley High.


End file.
